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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27307063">A Heart in the Scrum</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sk3tch/pseuds/Sk3tch'>Sk3tch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AND THEY WERE FLATMATES, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Rugby, Author tried to be accurate but is not well versed in 'the sports', Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Rugbyplayer!Aziraphale, Slice of Life, oh no she's hot!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:01:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27307063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sk3tch/pseuds/Sk3tch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>1935; university students Azirphale Fell and Antonia Crowley have just started their undergrads. Today is Aziraphale's rugby season opener, and of course her flatmate and best friend is there to cheer on the team. Even though she's not sports-inclined, Crowley doesn't mind sitting in the stands for 80 minutes on a chilly Friday. In fact, she loves to watch her best friend play, she's amazing! To see her prowess on the pitch, her strength, her gorgeous backside running down the... wait, what?! </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>  <i>Oh, Crowley realized as she surreptitiously lowered her sunglasses and looked over at her friend, oh no. The school year had barely started, and they were living together. Constantly in each other's space and hardly a secret between them. Well, she swallowed, until now.</i></p>
<p>  <i>This was going to be a problem with a capital ‘p’.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ineffable Wives Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Heart in the Scrum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TawnyOwl95/gifts">TawnyOwl95</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Ineffable Wives Exchange for TawnyOwl95!<br/>I used their prompt for a human AU and ran with it! So... hope you like rugby!</p>
<p>Many, many thanks go out to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeofmydreams">madeofmydreams</a>!!! If I've said it once, I will say it a million times, without her this fic wouldn't be nearly as good as it is. I feel so blessed to know her! She is made of lovely. Pure, pure lovely. And by god, without her, OP would have had a breakdown. Not all heroes wear capes y'all. Seriously. THANK YOU!<br/>Any leftover mistakes are alllll mine. That said, I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Normally empty, the wooden bleachers Crowley sat on during the rugby practices were just about half-packed for the inaugural game. She was glad her usual spot was open when she had arrived with Aziraphale twenty minutes prior to the start, but she hadn’t really counted on it being taken. Not too many people made it out for the women’s rugby practices, and Crowley had anticipated not many would for the games either, which was a definite shame.</p>
<p>It would have been good for the team’s morale had their own side been a touch more full, Crowley thought, sparing a glance at the empty spots around her before looking across the way. The opposing team had come with a fairly large supporting crowd, loud buggers too. Although it wasn’t like the home team needed more people to drown them out, she and Shadwell could easily do that.</p>
<p>No, it just would have been nice for the team, especially for a home game to have more support. But, at least there <em> were </em>others beside Crowley, Shadwell, and a few regulars that came to practices. It was an important game, after all. </p>
<p>Not in the way that their team was trying to maintain some sort of undefeated record and going up against an equally undefeated group of women, nor on a more personal note, was it the first rugby game of Aziraphale’s that Crowley had ever been to. But it was the first game of their university careers. Hers and Aziraphale’s, and that felt pretty major. She smiled, hands still wrapped around Aziraphale’s tartan thermos, even though Crowley had long since finished the coffee inside. </p>
<p>The steel was cosy under her fingers, like the memory of the hot brew previously held within had seeped through the vacuum insulation and continued to give off heat. Almost providing more comfort to her than her own chosen wardrobe, in fact. Which, was an absurd thought since it wasn’t like she hadn’t dressed for the occasion. </p>
<p>Under her dark wool coat, admittedly slung across her lap now because the sun had made a rare appearance earlier for a bit before dipping back behind a cloud half an hour ago, Crowley had on a maroon jumper over a long sleeved henley. She had also worn her favorite pair of thick denim trousers, much to the shocked double-takes of the conservative coeds around her. Crowley wasn’t trying to be cold, she wore layers like she should when Aziraphale asked her too, even if it ruined her aesthetic. </p>
<p>And it wasn’t a particularly chilly day even with the onset of autumn, Crowley just naturally ran cold. Coincidentally, Aziraphale often questioned if Crowley wasn’t cold-blooded, to which the would-be serpent tended to stick her tongue out with a hiss and wrap herself tighter in whatever the closest piece of spare clothing was, prompting further jokes about hibernation.</p>
<p>The jibes were never long winded though, and Aziraphale never razzed her to an unforgivable point, usually providing something miraculously pulled from the ether to warm Crowley during those chilled states in apology for the joking. And while Crowley habitually made a show of being put upon by Aziraphale’s concerns and teasing, she secretly enjoyed it when Aziraphale surprised her with things like a soft scarf in dark colors, or an extra jumper from her uniform bag, and yes, even, or perhaps <em> especially </em>a thermos full of coffee even though Aziraphale preferred tea.</p>
<p>Aziraphale liked to make sure everyone around her was comfortable, taken care of. A lot of it boiled down to nerves, Crowley knew. She didn’t think anyone could grow up in a household that valued its religious morals above all else the way Aziraphale’s had, and not come out the other side with some sort of ‘need to please’ complex. Although, when her over-accommodating tendencies seemed to concern Crowley, they usually felt different, more of an active choice rather than just acting on what had been ingrained in her. Something Aziraphale put more thought into. </p>
<p>Like… the way Aziraphale always kept coffee in her little flat before they’d moved in together in case she had guests who preferred it to tea. That was well and good, it was the fact that she had only ever kept the brands around which Crowley preferred that made a warmth spread just beneath Crowley’s sternum and radiate to the rest of her every time she made a cup, that made it feel like something more.</p>
<p>It was all the little things like that which made Crowley truly adore her. Aziraphale had always been attentive when it came to her, much like Crowley was when it came to Aziraphale. They were best friends after all so it made sense, that's what best friends did. Although, Crowely could admit, Aziraphale was her <em> only </em>friend, being ‘best’ by default. </p>
<p>But that was a moot point. </p>
<p>They’d been inseparable since primary school, and Crowley for one couldn’t imagine having anyone else filling that role in her life. Aziraphale was kind, smart, and so funny when she let herself be; in those rare instances when she wasn’t overthinking and worrying over everything and everyone else. </p>
<p>Crowley bit her lip and glanced down at the thermos for a quick second, making a mental note to pick up some pastries from the cafe the next town over as a surprise to repay Aziraphale for her kindness. They had only been three or four times, but it was fast becoming a favourite location to both of them.</p>
<p>The cafe had been a surprise find that first weekend they had moved into their shared flat, having each thought the other was bringing a vacuum cleaner, only to realise they would need to pop over to the closest shops and get one. After a tiring few hours of shopping, because of course while they were near stores they ought to take advantage of them to get other essentials, Crowley had spotted the quaint little place shortly after Aziraphale had said she felt peckish.</p>
<p>The resulting nosh had met both of their standards, and as such they had come back every weekend since, when Aziraphale felt confident enough they had each done enough of their studies to warrant the break, of course. </p>
<p>Which, even if they hadn’t, Crowley had a feeling they would find themselves in the little cafe regardless, each new Sunday. Aziraphale might say it was to keep their physical health in prime condition alongside their mental health by getting out of the flat and stretching their legs, but Crowley knew that was a white lie. Besides the fact they took Crowley's Bentley for these ventures, Crowley knew the other girl also had a specific weakness for the scones that were purportedly only served on Sundays. It was adorable. </p>
<p>Crowley nodded to herself as a whistle sounded, it would be a nice treat, something to thank her best friend and flatmate properly, for all the little things she’d done for Crowley since they moved in together and started classes almost a month ago. Besides, she thought with her mood taking on a bit of a darker edge, Aziraphale might just need an early pick-me-up. The game was not going very well.  </p>
<p>Although it wasn’t an all out bloodbath, the season opener was brutal. Gabriel Archer, Aziraphale’s cousin, somehow coach of the women’s rugby club team, and all around wanker, was doing a piss poor job of leading the team to victory. If he would just take his head out of his arse and actually watch the team, he would see the plays and positions he had reassigned them all at the beginning of the game were doomed from the start. Not only were they used to playing different positions, the things he was making them do were just asinine. To try for a goal that far down the pitch, and with Uriel at that? Shameful, the other team deserved the resulting tries and conversions.</p>
<p>If they had just stuck with Aziraphale’s plan, they would have undoubtedly been up by fifty by now. As it was, the sheer determination of the players who actually knew what they were doing, namely Aziraphale, kept the team in the game with a shot to come back and maybe even pull ahead. It was quite frankly a miracle how close the game was, what with the bureaucratic-like idiot single handedly bringing the whole team down.</p>
<p>Another yell from the coach had the team scrambling and leaving a wide open hole where a girl from the other team sped through, and scored another try. Crowley groaned and ran a hand through her hair in sympathetic camaraderie.</p>
<p>Watching the players, Crowley could see the frustration in their postures. Most were hunched over, hands on their hips and shaking their heads. Anathema Device practically glared daggers into Gabriel, while probably also throwing a curse his way for good measure. Crowley watched as one of the oldest girls on the team, Tracy something or other, slung an arm around her and the Pulsifer kid and led them back to where Aziraphale seemed to be trying her best to have a sternly worded talk with Gabriel over his clipboard. He waved her off and walked  away from the conversation Aziraphale was still having with him. Crowley shook her head. She knew Aziraphale was a proper gal, so entirely the opposite of Crowley in just about every way, but she wished her friend would find it in her to stand up to that joke and his <a id="return1" name="return1"></a>applesauce<sup>[<a href="#note1">1</a>]</sup>.</p>
<p>It was frustrating to hear her practicing doing so, every so often when the lights were off and Aziraphale thought Crowley had already dozed off. She was so many things, Aziraphale, so many wonderful things, but for some reason she could only find it in her to listen to the worst of what was said about her. </p>
<p>Like how many times she heard Aziraphale muttering about being ‘soft’. Gabriel had planted that thought in her head at some point and it had rooted there, growing into ugly lies that Aziraphale tried to ignore. During those times at night when Aziraphale thought she was the only one up in the flat, she would come up with the best comebacks. Really good zingers, that Crowley sometimes had to clamp a hand over her mouth in case Aziraphale heard her gasp.</p>
<p>But when it came time for her to use them, she would freeze, or otherwise balk her way out of the conversation, segueing them in a different direction so she could avoid the conflict. Oh how Crowley wished she could march up to her in those times and hold her hand with rallying support, to show she believed Aziraphale could do it! Aziraphale had the words, Crowley knew she did! She just didn’t have the confidence to follow through and that killed Crowley. </p>
<p>Even now, when Aziraphale clearly knew the point she was making, but Gabriel continued to ignore her. Tracy, coming out of nowhere, led Aziraphale away from Gabriel’s back and nodded to whatever Aziraphale was gesturing about, rubbing a soothing hand into the back of her jersey. Well, at least there were some people on the team who knew where the real leadership lay.</p>
<p>They started play again, winning the ball from a lineout, but after two rapid fire suggestions from that purple-eyed menace quickly contradicted each other and confused the team, Crowley watched as Aziraphale narrowly avoided a nasty looking tackle.</p>
<p>“Oi Shem! Get your arse down the pitch! For fuck’s sake, cover her, COVER HER!” Crowley shook her head, letting long red curls bounce around her, pointedly ignoring the shocked glares that came her way from everyone else gathered to watch the match. They could all sod off, for as much as Crowley cared. Bollocks all they were doing to cheer on the team through this <a id="return2" name="return2"></a>sockdollager<sup>[<a href="#note1">2</a>]</sup> of a thing. Even if it might be crude by a certain bibliophile’s standards, at least she was doing something! </p>
<p>A resounding ‘oooh’ rippled through the crowd following a particularly tense maul, and even Crowley winced. That was a good way to break some toes. She let out a breath when she saw the familiar shock of white blonde hair wiggle free of the pack and hand the ball off to the ref when the whistle called out. </p>
<p>She grumbled a curse under her breath when she saw Gabriel slap Aziraphale hard enough on the back to pitch her forward from where she had gone to the sidelines to ask him something. Aziraphale shook it off, but Crowley knew how much the other detested the unnecessary rough housing when it came to idle game time.</p>
<p>There were several more back and forths, but the score held close. They were losing, sure, but not by much. Although whether it was better to give it your all and lose by a little, or to try but ultimately lose by a landslide, Crowley didn’t know. Both scenarios felt terrible, at least, they both seemed to elicit the same terrible response from Aziraphale: a long night of flawed introspection trying to find where she could have given just a little bit more, how she could have done something to not have let the team down, even if she had executed everything within her ability correctly.</p>
<p>Seriously, she nodded to herself, as soon as they got done and home, Crowley was going to get Aziraphale sozzled. They’d get some take away, see if there was anything good on the radio, and just have a night. Or, maybe they could drive somewhere, if Aziraphale wanted, just start the weekend early. Surely they had earned a little getaway. Crowley was contemplating if Aziraphale would want to find a little creperie or something and make it a proper mini holiday when Aziraphale’s own booming voice cut through her thoughts.</p>
<p>Down on the pitch, it seemed they somehow got an interception and Pulsifer had made a break for it, running in an awkward gait, much like Crowely imagined her own gangly limbs might do were she to attempt the sport. Aziraphale was right behind them though, cheering the poor rookie on, despite the screeching sounds of Gabriel’s voice to drop back and let someone else do it. Crowley couldn’t understand how anyone could be so blind. Aziraphale might not be the fastest player, but she was by no means the slowest. She was also strong, Crowley thought, watching as the blonde blocked two other girls from laying a finger on Newt as they ran for all they were worth.</p>
<p>It was almost as if Gabriel wanted the team to lose, the way he called the shots. Crowley still didn’t understand why Aziraphale had put in a good word for him with the dean. Okay, Crowley knew, of course she knew, it was just Aziraphale. Her sweet ‘seeing the goodness in everything’ beliefs that said everyone should have a chance. Not for the first time Crowley wished she could make Aziraphale see things through her eyes. Then maybe she’d stop letting others walk all over her.</p>
<p>A shrill cry announced a tackle that almost ended their streak of luck, but Pulsifer twisted at just the right moment to escape the cage of arms around their middle and dove into the try area. </p>
<p>Crowley leaned forward in her seat. She had only loosely been keeping track of how close the score was given the game was nearly over, but after that try, she could see they were almost tied. A successful conversion would get them there, and then... Well, against all odds, they actually had a chance to win! Stranger things had happened, she supposed. Crowley glanced down at her watch and after swallowing thickly, realized there were only a few minutes left of game play. If they were going to win this, they needed to be very careful with their next moves. </p>
<p>With suddenly sweaty palms, Crowley watched as the conversion sailed through the posts, good! She didn’t realize she was holding her breath, but she let it out. Tied, bless it all, they were actually tied! They lined up and started again, Crowley watching as the renewed sense of competitive spirit settled over everyone on the pitch. The kick was good, and they were off. </p>
<p>Biting a thumb, she watched as they held the other team back for the most part, but felt her canines sink deeper into the meat of her thumb as their opponents got closer and closer to the try line. She knew it would leave little indents and she should probably stop, but the bad habit grounded her, keeping her in the here and now instead of imagining all of the negative possible outcomes of the next minute. </p>
<p>Crowley vibrated in her seat, eyes darting between her watch and the game, she almost missed seeing the accidental forward pass. She was shouting the same moment the ref’s whistle blew, and bouncing a leg as everyone lined up for a scrum. This was their chance! Everyone on the pitch knew it too, and a hush fell over the crowd, the players, and even the blessed birds in the area. Complete silence as the fate of the game came down to this last play.</p>
<p>Crowley scanned over the team, as they trudged back to start the scrum and found her favorite player. The set of her shoulders told her all she needed to know about how Aziraphale was feeling. Crowley would never mention it, but after having been friends with the girl for so long, she was practically an open book to Crowley, even when she wasn’t speaking. Maybe especially when she wasn’t speaking.  </p>
<p>The pose she had now, was one of determination. Aziraphale was ready for this, and she was going to go for it. In what seemed like a faster than usual second, the game started back up, and the players began passing  the ball between their feet. Crowley’s eyes lost it a few times, and she swore under her breath. Then it reappeared on the wrong side and she swore again. When there was a flash of the brown ball a second later in Anathema's hands, Crowley swore a 6th time, but with renewed hype.</p>
<p>Anathema passed it behind her, into Aziraphale’s waiting hands and she looked around her to decide whether to keep it and run with it as the time counted down, or to pass to someone who might have a better chance.</p>
<p>Crowley knew she was screaming, although she couldn’t say what she was screaming if anyone would ask her later. The rest of the home team crowd was cheering too, absolutely going wild. Unfortunately the coach for their team was also yelling, and it was not encouraging like the rest of them.</p>
<p>In fact, it was more of a jeer.</p>
<p>“Aziraphale, Aziraphale you soft <a id="return3" name="return3"></a>saddle-goose<sup>[<a href="#note1">3</a>]</sup>, pass the goddamned ball!”</p>
<p>God, Crowley could hear the disdain coming off of Gabriel’s voice as he shouted insults at his cousin to ‘pass the damn ball to Sandra,’ but Crowley could see that was never going to work. Aside from knowing by watching every team practice they’d had on Thursday evenings that Sandra’s strengths lay in downing the water after practice and boasting about all of their hard work during said practice, and not in any actual skill, Crowley knew that was an avenue best not tread on. They had yet to catch a single ball anyone on the team passed to them when the stakes were nonexistent, even with each throw being clean and direct, so there really was no hope for them now. Honestly, Sandra should just change her name to <em> Scrum </em>at this point with how much she messed up. </p>
<p>It was a matter of heartbeats, the time Crowley could see Aziraphale running through all of the possible outcomes. If she threw the ball, if she ran, if she did some combination of the both and covered another teammate like she had for Newt prior. There wasn’t a chance that she wasn’t playing through all scenarios. Meanwhile, Gabriel continued to berate her, his yells taking on an edge of harshness. At a decidedly rude call, Aziraphale’s back straightened and she turned her head to face up-pitch and Crowley knew she had made up her mind.</p>
<p>The minute Aziraphale did so, Crowley lowered her hands from where they had been clutching the thermos in front of her chest with a gasp. Oh, she thought, this was going to be something! She set the thermos down on the bench next to her and her hands fisted tightly together in a mockery of a prayer.</p>
<p>It seemed to happen in slow motion, like time had stopped even though Crowley was well aware that it had not slowed down at all. Aziraphale gripped the ball tightly to her side, and took off. Her cleats lifting up a chunk of earth under her right foot where she pushed into a run. </p>
<p>Crowley rose slowly up from where she had sat on her bony arse for the last seventy minutes, and felt her breath catching in her chest. Aziraphale was running for all that she was worth and it was <em> brilliant</em>. Several players from the opposing team were tailing her, getting close enough that Crowley could see they were only a hands’ width away from her. But Aziraphale kept on, running and steadily putting distance between them.</p>
<p>Although they weren’t the only ones that she needed to watch out for. </p>
<p>In front of Aziraphale, players waited for her to get to them so they could tackle her before she could score. Crowley could admit it was a good tactic, let Aziraphale wear herself out as time ran down, but also foolish. It hinged on the idea that Aziraphale, fueled by the spirit of competition and bringing victory for her team, could possibly tire out now, when the end was in sight. Crowley knew, that wasn’t likely.</p>
<p>Vaguely, Gabriel’s voice shook through the sound of the crowd that had finally gotten their shit together and were yelling encouragement just as much as Crowley, to pass the ball to someone else. Crowley bit her lip, seeing the bottleneck of the position Aziraphale was heading into and felt herself sending words heavenbound under her breath. Aziraphale was so close to the try, but she was also dangerously close to the touch line too! One wrong shift, and she’d be called for a penalty and the team’s chances of winning would be gone. Maybe it was a selfish thought, but she did not want to see Aziraphale lose this, not now, not when it all fell on her shoulders.</p>
<p>The other team was witty, having directed Aziraphale into what was essentially a dead end, but then they didn’t know how good Aziraphale was and Crowley, after berating herself for momentarily worrying for Aziraphale’s sake unnecessarily, almost felt bad for them as the outcome of their folly played out. </p>
<p>When Aziraphale got to the players, she juked and pivoted out of their way, causing one of her pursuers to run into their teammate who had turned to stare dumbly at the blonde who had so skillfully gotten around her.</p>
<p>As far as the third girl that Aziraphale had not been able to pivot around, she was probably wondering how she ended up on her back in the course of a second. Aziraphale was strong, and while she didn’t like when players got hurt, she knew how to throw her weight around on the field when the situation called for it. She also always went back to go help the opposing player up and make sure they were okay after the play was done, much to Crowley’s amusement.</p>
<p>“It wouldn’t be very sporting if I didn’t,” she had once argued and Crowley, not having anything to counter that point with, well, nothing good anyway, had let it go with a shake of her head. Sometimes she thought her friend was too good for this world, too pure. Then again, it was lucky for Crowley that Aziraphale was, otherwise she might not have thought to take a second look at Crowley in primary school and ask if she wanted to play swords with her during break time.</p>
<p>Or, she thought with a crooked grin as she watched Aziraphale run closer to the try line and two final obstacles, maybe it was the streak of disobedient bastardry that had caused them to become and remain friends this whole time. </p>
<p>Enough so, to choose to go to the same university together. Although, even if Crowley hadn’t have gotten in, she still would have likely shared a flat with Aziraphale, it was just more convenient. They <em> were </em>best friends.</p>
<p>With an amazing show of skill Aziraphale kicked herself up off the field, over the two girls who then hastily tried to jump out of each other’s way, to land very neatly in the try area before taking a few decelerating steps, ultimately stopping and standing there with the ball held aloft. There was silence around the whole pitch for a moment in which Crowley would have sworn she could hear Aziraphale’s labored breaths, and then the whole area erupted into a sea of applause. Even the other bystanders that came with the away team joined in, and for good measure. The move Aziraphale did was downright amazing. It was a poetry in motion, it was everything in the universe lining up exactly right in a single moment, it was quite frankly the sexiest thing Crowley had ever seen done on a sports pitch in her life.</p>
<p>Wait, what?</p>
<p>She ran through her thoughts in succession, ignoring the crowd celebrating around her and shaking her head at the last thought, wondering where the hell that came from. Sure, she knew she was attracted to the fairer gender, with obvious reason she thought, grimacing when she saw Tracy’s boyfriend run onto the field and mime shooting a large gun into the sky before sweeping Tracy off her feet and swirling her around, that wasn’t a secret.</p>
<p>And it never had been, not between Crowley and her wayward family, or anyone else in her immediate social circle, Aziraphale included. Which had never been a problem, surprisingly, even with Aziraphale’s religious background. </p>
<p>So no, she wasn’t fully concerned about that thought, it was a sexy move, and Aziraphale was a <a id="return4" name="return4"></a>choice bit of calico<sup>[<a href="#note1">4</a>]</sup>, even if she didn’t believe it. Those were just facts. Crowley shook her head again and gathered up her things so she could go congratulate Aziraphale with the rest of the crowd on the field. Just a silly thought that meant nothing, maybe she’d tell Aziraphale later just to make her blush. It’d be good fun.</p>
<p>After double checking she had everything: thermos, coat, and Aziraphale’s duffle bag included, she searched through the mix of folks on the field and finally found Aziraphale. She was chatting with Gabriel, although ol’ Gabey seemed to be doing most of the talking. Their eyes met when she got to the edge of the pitch, and Crowley saw Aziraphale smile, even rolling her eyes before darting them over in Gabriel’s direction. Crowley had to agree, there were a plethora of things she’d rather do than talk to Gabriel, in fact...</p>
<p>Grinning widely, with a mischievous smirk she knew Aziraphale might reprimand her for later, Crowley mimed hanging herself on her way toward Aziraphale. Her wide eyes were almost enough to get Crowley to stop, but the upturn of the corner of her lip belied her shocked embarrassment as a farce, and her amusement was clear as day. Still, Crowley could read a room, er, pitch, and she knew when to choose her battles. As soon as Gabriel’s eyes landed on her, Crowley’s arms went to innocently stretch in the air instead.</p>
<p>“Heeeey, congrats!” She said when she got close enough, laying it on rather thick which gained her a whole smirk as well as a shaking head. </p>
<p>“First game and <em> win </em> of the season, good job coach, <em> captain</em>.” She punched Gabriel in the shoulder with her mock enthusiasm and reveled in pleasure as she watched him grit his teeth while pretending to enjoy that kind of banter. In all fairness, he likely would if Crowley had both xy chromosomes, but she did not, and Gabriel was old fashioned. </p>
<p>“Yes, well, as I was saying, good game Aziraphale. Let the others know we’ll have practice as usual? I have to go.” And without a further word, the two were left to watch Gabriel’s receding figure. </p>
<p>Crowley waited for a full 30 seconds before turning to Aziraphale and they each broke down in giggles. After a bit, they subsided, and Crowley threw an arm over Aziraphale’s shoulders to steer her toward the locker rooms so they could get on with the day, waving at the other players who all knew Crowley because she came to every practice. </p>
<p>“Okay, I meant when I said good game Aziraphale, but seriously, what the hell was with Gabe today? I mean, did he want to throw the game? Because he almost did.”</p>
<p>“Hmmm,” Aziraphale hummed, shaking her head, “I honestly don’t know. I’ll have to sit down with him, I’m afraid.” Crowley saw the smile slide off her face and Aziraphale’s hands start to fidget and shook her head.</p>
<p>“Hey, hey don’t think about it too much, yeah? ‘M sorry I brought it up. Let’s focus on you, yeah? You just single handedly won the first game! We need to celebrate! Which,” she said dropping her arm and waving it around them, “means you need to shower and get changed ASAP! I’ve got plans for you, er, us! Plans! So go shower!” </p>
<p>Aziraphale smiled, the thanks clear in her eyes, and nodded, taking her duffel from where Crowley offered it and slipped through the doors. Crowley let out a sigh, hopping up on a ledge outside the building and waited, deciding those pick-me-up crepes could now be celebration-crepes. </p>
<p>Since Aziraphale was speedy, she was out in under half an hour and they were walking back to their flat to get the Bentley with plenty of time left in the day to find a decent restaurant before the nightly rush. </p>
<p>Crowley felt proud, looking down at the game ball that the others had decided Aziraphale should have. They were right, of course, she deserved it, but Crowley was chuffed the team acknowledged it. Aziraphale, modest mouse that she was when it came to accepting compliments, had promptly handed it off to Crowley to hold, as if doing so would take the spotlight off herself.</p>
<p>Well, not on Crowley’s watch!</p>
<p>“You reckon we should make a rack for these?” Aziraphale threw an indignant look at her and Crowley went on. “Because I just assume the flat is going to be littered with all of the game balls you procure. We ought to have a place to keep ‘em all, display them, so you can be reminded of your greatness daily.”</p>
<p>“Pftt, hardly Crowley. I don’t… I only did what anyone else would have done.” Still, the tinge of color that came over her cheeks told Crowley she at least acknowledged she might deserve the praise. </p>
<p>“Oh, ‘I only did what anyone else would have done’ my arse, Aziraphale. That was complete <a id="return5" name="return5"></a>berries<sup>[<a href="#note1">5</a>]</sup> and you know it! Sandra couldn’t have done that, Michael either.” A shy glance took Aziraphale’s eyes away from Crowley and she smiled.</p>
<p>“Well, maybe not.”</p>
<p>“No maybe about it baby, <em> you </em>did that.” A full grin returned hers, and then she laughed.</p>
<p>“Okay, may-, perhaps. But I think one game ball is quite enough. No need to turn our flat into a storage closet.”</p>
<p>“What, are you kidding? Even if you do another of those brilliant... wotsits,” Crowley waved a hand around, but when she couldn’t get her point across enough, took a step forward to demonstrate, “Y'know, one of those, oof!” </p>
<p>“Crowley! Oh, oh dear…”</p>
<p>While attempting to do one of those, blast it she still didn’t know the name, moves, her heel had caught on an uneven patch of ground and she had stumbled down onto her arse with a sharp grunt, the game ball falling out of her hands and rolling to a stop under Aziraphale’s foot.</p>
<p>Crowley must have looked a sight, with her glasses askew and her limbs all spread akimbo as she looked up at Aziraphale who had a hand raised over her mouth. But upon closer inspection, where she thought her friend had been overly concerned about Crowley’s tendency to trip over herself, she could see Aziraphale’s shoulders starting to bounce, ever so slightly, with held back laughter. Crowley blinked slowly, watching her try to hide it, and then felt her own mouth fall into an open mouthed laugh.</p>
<p>“Oh har har, Aziraphale. Go on then, laugh at your un-sports adept friend.” At Crowley’s playful sarcasm, the dam burst and Aziraphale’s laughter flew out of her in giant peals of ringing hilarity.</p>
<p>“I-I’m so sorry my dear. You just.. If you could see you, right now!”</p>
<p>“Pshaw! Forget me,” Crowley said before she realised, between bites of laughter, “You should see you! You look like one of those statues. Regular Nike, you” And really Aziraphale did, with the way the sun shone from behind her and she had one leg raised, as if claiming victory. Crowley righted herself, but didn’t get up yet, letting her arms rest on her knees.</p>
<p>“C’mon then, do a pose or something, you are a, a bearcat Aziraphale, total <a id="return6" name="return6"></a>bearcat<sup>[<a href="#note1">6</a>]</sup>! I just cannot get over how you played today, it was incredible. How you stuck it to Gabe, how you did,” Crowley gestured again, <em> “that </em>at the end?!” Aziraphale bit her lip and looked over at Crowley where she had settled on the lawn. She stifled a giggle and her eyes twinkled.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe I did <em> that </em> either! Both of those things, really. Oh, Gabriel’s going to be a headache come Thursday. I wonder what he’ll say! Although it serves him right, gave <em> me </em>a headache this whole game.” For the first time in Crowley’s history of knowing her, Aziraphale’s hands were calm, not fidgeting or wringing or otherwise twisting round and round themselves in a release of nerves wound tighter than any pocket watch she may or may not adore. Her laughter had her bending back upright, clutching one arm around her middle and absolutely snorting. Crowley found it endearing. </p>
<p>As she watched Aziraphale let go of all that prim, properness that always had her so uptight, afraid to even move in the wrong way lest her shadow upset someone, Crowley felt an odd sort of way. It wasn’t just pride, she knew pride, wasn’t shy about showing off her own. And she was proud of Aziraphale, certainly, but she had always been proud of Aziraphale, that’s just how friendship worked. No, it was something… else, something more. Her wild grin shrank down to a smaller smile, but the feeling didn't diminish at all. In fact it only grew.</p>
<p>“Not so soft now, I’d reckon.” Aziraphale’s fit slowed down and she eventually just stood there, smiling down at Crowley. The blush on her cheeks painting a beautiful wash over her pale features. </p>
<p>“Well… perhaps not.” Crowley watched her throw her head back and laugh once more, then turn back toward Crowley and wink. Honest to someone, the blonde bastard squeezed one eye shut at Crowley before grinning that smug little trademark grin of hers and finally doing a pose. </p>
<p>She held it seriously for all of a few seconds, but it was enough. Her hands relaxed naturally on her hips and her eyes looking off into the distance as she pushed her chest out in a power stance, heel of one boot squashing the rugby ball into the grass.</p>
<p>The sunlight filtered over her soft edges and cast her into brilliant relief among the grass and clouds from Crowley’s vantage point. She looked powerful and perfect. The seriousness undercut by the tiniest of smirks, before she was laughing again and picking up the ball to stuff in her bag and offering a hand to Crowley.</p>
<p>In those few short seconds however, Crowley had several increasingly worrying realizations.</p>
<p>She might be in love with Aziraphale. No, scratch that, she was. Oh God and fucking Satan below, she <em> was</em>. Crowley felt the panic rise in her as she tried to pinpoint the moment this must have happened, but in going through every goddamned memory, she couldn’t. There were too many instances to pin it on just one, christ! </p>
<p>Second, not only did she want to never leave Aziraphale’s side again, be there to grow old together and all of that sappy nonsense, she wanted to show her, physically too. Crowley wanted to worship her, like a, like a… like an angel of the lord! </p>
<p>And that’s what she was, wasn’t she? What with her beautiful cherubic face, and brilliant halo of hair, the way she was so kind and nice to every living creature, even the blasted slugs that invaded Crowley’s plants at least once a year. <em> Somebody</em>, how had she not noticed sooner? </p>
<p>She knew how gorgeous, and there was a thought that sent fire right to her belly, how damn gorgeous Aziraphale was during the everyday mundane, Crowley could only imagine how gorgeous she would be in the throws of passion. The sounds she would make if she were to <a id="return7" name="return7"></a>pitch a woo<sup>[<a href="#note1">7</a>]</sup>, the feeling of her body against Crowley’s, letting go and chasing her own bliss! </p>
<p>Crowley wanted it, god how she wanted it, as quickly as every thought occurred to her! She longed to run her hands over Aziraphale’s frame, map out every place that gave her shivers, show her with touches that ‘soft’ was very much a good thing and not stop until Aziraphale believed it. Oh! And her hair! Never in Crowley’s life had she wanted to sink her hands into anything so much. Not the plush blankets Aziraphale kept scattered around the flat for them both, nor the candy floss Aziraphale liked to get at the charter fairs, not even the fuzzy hat Aziraphale had once bought on an adorable whim. </p>
<p>Oh god… she was a goner, a complete and utter <em> goner</em>.</p>
<p>Crowley felt sweat break out under her collar, and knew her cheeks had probably turned an incriminating shade of crimson. She watched Aziraphale chuckle, walking toward her and reaching out. It would be so easy to pull her down, have her crash atop Crowley there in the dirt and grass, and have a moment of that prolonged touch Crowley now hungered for. Instead, she pushed it away, tamped down on this realisation, and decided to pretend for the time being, that everything was fine. Like she hadn’t had some leftover bomb dropped on her on a Friday afternoon.</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s strong hands gripped hers and pulled, bringing Crowley up off the ground. They let go, and Crowley mourned the loss. Only briefly, however, as those same hands, pristine, manicured, beautiful, brushed invisible dirt off of Crowley’s shoulders and then Aziraphale was smiling at her, lacing an arm through Crowley’s and started them back on their way. She was talking up a storm, naturally, the adrenaline of the win making her almost as chatty as she would be had they split a bottle of wine. It was a good look Crowley thought, very open. Although, now that Crowley was aware of it, every look was a good look on Aziraphale, wasn’t it?</p>
<p>Reflexively, she tightened her arm around Aziraphale’s, pouring her newfound want into the contact. The dull ache in her chest that had started when she had her epiphany, now throbbed painfully. She’d never been one to believe the woes their sex often cited over heartache when it regarded love, and now Crowley realised how foolish she had been. Perhaps if she had listened, she might have been more prepared.</p>
<p>She might not have fallen so hard. Gosh... it was paralysing!</p>
<p>Even now, as they were walking and still connected, Crowley was thinking about when this moment, this completely innocent touch of linking arms, something they’ve done hundreds of times, how after it was over, the spot where Aziraphale’s arm lay over her own would be so cold. How she wanted to stave off the inevitable and keep Aziraphale here as long as possible! </p>
<p>And worse yet, how she was going to continue living with the beautiful angel at her side and not make any of their usual routines weird. How was she going to hide this longing, this infernal burning inside her? Because there was no way she could say something, not... not yet anyway. She had only just realised herself, it wouldn’t be fair. And besides, maybe… maybe it wasn’t anything at all! Maybe there was some other reason it felt like all of her was aflame, blistering from the inside out, as every little detail of Aziraphale she thought about added kindling and built the pyre bigger!</p>
<p>.<em>..Fuck. </em></p>
<p>She bit off a whine before it could escape her throat. Oh, Crowley realized as she surreptitiously lowered her sunglasses and looked over at her friend, oh no. The school year had barely started, and they were living together. Constantly in each other's space and hardly a secret between them. Well, she swallowed, until now.</p>
<p>This was going to be a problem with a capital ‘p’.</p>
<p>“So,” Aziraphale said, turning those gorgeous blue eyes back at her, unaware of the fuel they added to Crowley’s inner firestorm, “you said you had plans?”</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><a id="note1" name="note1"></a><sup>1</sup>nonsense, balderdash, bullshit<sup>[<a href="#return1">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note2" name="note2"></a><sup>2</sup> someone or something which is truly remarkable or impressive, a decisive blow<sup>[<a href="#return2">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note3" name="note3"></a><sup>3</sup>an imbecile<sup>[<a href="#return3">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note4" name="note4"></a><sup>4</sup>a desirable or attractive woman<sup>[<a href="#return4">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note5" name="note5"></a><sup>5</sup>very cool, same as 'the bee's knees'<sup>[<a href="#return5">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note6" name="note6"></a><sup>6</sup>a fiery, free spirited woman; a badass<sup>[<a href="#return6">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note7" name="note7"></a><sup>7</sup>court, flatter, physical act of making love<sup>[<a href="#return7">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So... rugby! I have never watched it before in my life, and I humbly apologize for any/all glaring issues where the game play is involved, but also I now kind of want to go find some on Youtube and watch? I dunno, it just seems really fun! I already want to write a sequel, but I need to get through Nanowrimo and some zine stuff first, among other stuff, lol.<br/>Also... this fic was based on an art I drew! You can find it <a href="https://sk3tchid.tumblr.com/post/633511381146140672/1935-womens-rugby-captain-aziraphale-fell-an">here</a>, on my tumbles. Y'know how it goes draw a thing, be inspired to write a little bit, a LITTLE BIT about it, and then have it snowball wildly into it's own thing. Yup. So if you want to see that, feel free to check it out. I'm really pleased with how it came out.</p>
<p>And uh... that's it! :D I hope ya liked it! Comments and Kudos are lovely, and my tumbly box is always open if you want to drop a line! Have a nice day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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